


Best With You

by ImhereforMR



Series: Young Love [3]
Category: Winx Club
Genre: Aisha pov, Ball, F/M, Fluff, Love, Sweet, mentions of Musa and Riven, stolen moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImhereforMR/pseuds/ImhereforMR
Summary: Meet me in the garden in fifteen” he whispered into her ear after they’d stood in peaceful silence for a few minutes. She turned to remind him the garden had been closed for the ball, but he was already gone.***A moment of ease during a ball, courtesy of Nabu, is all Aisha needs to not be miserable.
Relationships: Aisha | Layla/Nabu (Winx Club)
Series: Young Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2169759
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Best With You

Aisha hated beige. Hated it more than anything; more than the itch she felt in her legs when she was inactive; more than solitude and loneliness; more than when water soaked through her shoes, drenched her socks and started making that squishy sound; and, somehow, more than when she had to put away any sign of a personality and play the perfect princess. The fact that she hated beige more than that is what confirmed to her that beige truly was her least favourite thing in the universe.

The gown – another thing she hated: ballgowns, too poofy and too tight at the same time – her parents had picked was attrocious. It had a large skirt that made Aisha’s hands sit funny when she tried to rest her arms at her sides, a corset bodice that made her feel like she was suffocating, long sleeves that bunched awkwardly at the shoulders and made it hard to lift her arms higher than her bust, and a ruffled high collar that tickled under her chin and made her feel like one of those uppity white men from Bloom’s old-timey Earth shows. The constricting sleeves and unfortunately voluptuous skirt made every move feel uncomfortable and awkward. It didn’t matter that she’d been trained to slow dance in dresses like this since she could remember; it never got better. She wanted nothing more than to rip this damn dress off and dance freely across the floor in her underwear. Shock a few people that had a stick up their ass; show the world she wasn’t one of those.

She stood off to the side of the dance floor, watching ladies in pink, blue, green and red dresses twirl around with their partners. None of them looked like they were suffocating. Quite the contrary, in fact, they looked like they were having the time of their lives; all smiles and laughter, hugs and kisses, cotton candy and rainbows. Aisha felt more like frowns and anger and poisoned apples. She longed to be like them. Wear the dress that she wanted, dance the way that she wanted, smile and laugh freely instead of living like it were a crime to show anything other than stoic strength.

Her parents were across the room, talking to the prime minister of Solaria as King Radius had been unable to attend, too busy dealing with the fallout of the Cassandra situation. Her mother wore a dress similar to her own, at least in colour, but the neckline was lower and the skirt wasn’t quite as big. Her father wore his typical dark robes – a powerful colour for a powerful king, he’d say, but Aisha thought it just made him look mean, much meaner than he actually was. She loved her parents, truly. They were kind people, and they’d made efforts to see her point of view – especially when it came to attending Alfea and that sham of a marriage. But they were also so determined to show the world that they were competent after her grandfather had almost bankrupted the realm that they insisted on perfection and seriousness. Two things Aisha wasn’t the biggest fan of.

No one had dared approach her in the last fifteen minutes. It might have been the drawn and irritated look on her face, or the fact that the refreshments table had just been restocked with new delicacies for people to try. Either way, she was fine; this was the kind of solitude that she bore well – the one that freed her from playing the role she'd been born and forced into. She felt him walk up to her, calm and easy, saw the flash of vibrant violet in her peripheral vision, and felt the tension in her shoulders slip away. It was in rare moments like these that she understood why Musa said she felt peace when she looked into Riven’s eyes; that the vibrancy of that violet brought her a happiness nothing else could. It amused Aisha that she’d found that in robes; who knew a brightly dressed person could make her world spin so much faster.

“Beige, an interesting choice” she heard him whisper in her ear. “It suits you.”

Aisha turned her head to glare at him, but the smile that played on his lips made it clear he was teasing. His deep blue eyes watched the dancers with that mischievous glimmer that pulled her in like a tidal wave; it was the same one that had drawn her to, and cemented her friendship with, Musa. Sensing her eyes on him, he turned his head to face her and gave her a sweet smile that turned her to putty in his hands.

It struck her as strange. She had always promised herself she’d never be subservient to a man the way her mother was to her father. Would never allow one to walk all over her. But Nabu, she would bend any way he asked her to. He could tell her to run across the dimension without stopping and she would do it; could tell her she had to wear beige for the rest of her life and she’d do it if it was what made him happy. He never did, though. Never asked her to do things she hated, never asked her to compromise her character, to give him control. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He encouraged her; loved that she was headstrong, opinionated and rebellious. He did everything he could to strengthen those facets of her; saw them as qualities where most saw them as faults. She was at her best with him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at some meeting with your family?”

“I was. I’m playing hooky” he shrugged casually, like it was no big deal that he’d brushed off something his parents had been setting up for weeks now.

"Nabu.”

“Okay, no” he relented with a joyous laugh that caught the attention of the people near them. “It got pushed to tomorrow evening.”

“I knew it” she chuckled, returning her eyes to the dancers in front of them. He may be a bit of a wildcard, but he had immense respect for his family. That was why, when it had been announced to him that they’d selected his future wife – or maybe it was that he’d been selected as a future husband since Aisha outranked him – he went to scope her out instead of throwing a fit.

“Meet me in the garden in fifteen” he whispered into her ear after they’d stood in peaceful silence for a few minutes. She turned to remind him the garden had been closed for the ball – some couple (*cough* Musa and Riven *cough*) had been caught making out, practically ready to rip each other’s clothes off by one of the guards during the last one – but he was gone.

Fifteen minutes wasn’t a long time, that is, unless you were waiting for something. Results from a doctor, a meeting to start, friends to arrive, a text to be answered by your crush, or to know what the hell your boyfriend was up to. She rocked on her heels, impressing herself at her ability to stay upright on just the heels of four inch stilettos, and counting down the minutes.

When fourteen minutes had passed, Aisha decided that that was close enough. She slipped to the back of the ballroom where the garden entrance was as quickly as she could, before anyone could stop her now that she looked like she was in a better mood. She opened the garden door just a crack, afraid that she’d get caught, and slipped through.

She’d expected the garden to be dark, the lights having been shut off to dissuade people, but when she turned around, the space was dimly lit. It wasn’t the usual lanterns that lit the walkway towards the gazebo, but rather floating twinkle lights that she was pretty sure weren't usually there. In the distance she heard music, not the traditional music of the ball she could hear through the door, but a pop ballad.

Following the path towards the music, Aisha found herself standing in front of the gazebo. Like the rest of the path, it was adorned with twinkle lights that were not part of its usual décor. The flowers and vines that encircled the columns and the grid-like metal dome seemed different; fuller, brighter, more fragrant.

In the center of the gazebo stood Nabu, a bright smile on his lips as he watched her take in his simple handy work. He snapped his fingers and Aisha found herself being able to breathe properly for the first since she'd gotten dressed. The horrendous and constricting beige dress turned a vibrant shade of green.The ruffle collar became a high-V and the full skirt slacked against her legs in a loose and flowy full length chiffon material. Her tight sleeves retracted entirely, leaving Aisha’s arms exposed to the wind that blew through the garden and the droplets splashing from the water fixture on her right.

“I always liked you better in colour” he told her.

“That makes two of us.” She stepped up to him as he bowed to her and offered his hand. Aisha took it in hers, laughing as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her in closer. He danced her around the gazebo smoothly, gliding effortlessly. Aisha knew he’d been taught to dance – any man of his status had – but it still awed her that he could make it feel like she was floating when they danced. (“You know, they say a man that can dance is usually good in bed” Musa had teased after the last ball. “Riven can’t dance.” “No, I guess he just got lucky.”)

“We should get back” she muttered sadly after they’d stopped dancing, turning her eyes towards the path that would lead to stuffy people that she didn’t want to interact with but had to. When she returned her eyes to his, her breath hitched seeing the way he was looking at her. His eyes were bright and joyful and loving as they took in her face, her lips, her eyes, the arch of her brow and the point of her nose. His lips, as always, were upturned into a wide grin that made her want nothing more than to run away with him and spend the rest of eternity having her smile at her.

“Actually, I was hoping we could play hooky. I’m kind of hungry.”

“Well, there’s food inside” she reminded him, pulling away and turning back towards the ball.

His hand caught her wrist and pulled her back in what had to be a rehearsed twirl. He caught her easily, wrapping his arm around her waist and catching the hand she’d put up instinctively in his. He swayed in place, rocking her with him. “I’m over pâté and whatever else is in that spread. Maybe burgers?” At the raise of her eyebrow, he decided she might not want burgers, so he suggested they get pizza. “Ooh, or maybe sushi?”

Musa had gotten him on a sushi kick; he could eat it day and night. Aisha would have to remember to give her hell for introducing Nabu to it and making him suggest it for every meal. “I don’t eat fish, remember?”

“Right, right, right. The whole being related to fish thing.”

“They’re merpeople.”

“I know” he laughed. Always that same laugh: loud, effortless and breezy. “So what do you think?”

“Burgers sound good.”

“Great!” With a flourish of his hands, the garden returned to its dark state and the music stopped, leaving only the faint sound of the running water from the fixture and the band playing in the ballroom. “I’ll meet you outside the gates.”

Before he could turn himself invisible and sneak away, she spoke. “What was the point of all this” she started, motioning to the garden, “if you just wanted to sneak away?”

He crinkled her eyes at her in that way he did whenever someone said something silly. “I thought you needed a reason to smile, and I like dancing with you” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He placed a kiss on her cheek, vanishing as he turned away from her, leaving her awe-struck.

Aisha had always been a practical person; it had been drilled into her that practicality and intelligence were more important than romanticism and creativity. That’s why she gravitated towards people that were her opposite; she longed to be able to be like them. She loved Flora’s romanticism and Musa’s creativity, but Nabu. Gods, Nabu somehow managed to be both practical and intelligent, creative and romantic, carefree and stable, and she loved all those things about him. And, somehow, he loved everything about her.

He loved her. She knew it, even if he hadn’t said it yet.

And she loved him. In fact, he might just be her very favourite thing in the universe.


End file.
